"Still..." He breathed but let it hang there. There was too much to try and apologize for. Too much he actually wanted to say. At the same time, however, he didn't know how to start. Maybe there was no starting. How do you apologize for not being what someone remembered when they just remembered you existed a few days ago? Maybe it was best to just let it go. The past was the past and there was no changing that.
Joking was easier. It was easier to make fun of Richie's forehead or tease him about wearing glasses when contacts were a thing instead of dealing with whatever he felt. That was just too much to unpack and he'd been avoiding that since the moment he turned around and remembered that Richie Tozier existed. The fucking shape shifting clown hadn't exactly made that easy. It's hard to avoid what you think is wrong with you when an actual physical representation of it tries to force it's tongue down your throat. Teasing was easier than dealing with all of that. Laughing at each other was easy.
Or, it was, until the mood shifted. Even after 27 years with no practice Eddie was fluent in Richie Tozier. The long pause, the nervousness, the way he pretended to fix his glasses. He'd done it as a boy too. Hurt by something he'd never talk about, vibrating out of his skin with the effort it took to keep it all inside. Crying without actually crying. Eddie would never draw attention to it as a child, too aware that his best friend wouldn't appreciate it and might even hate him for it. It had always tugged at his little heart strings though, leaving him feeling helpless. Back then just a gentle nudge could draw Richie out of it. It didn't matter what had happened. What mattered was the reminder that they still had each other. This felt different. Bigger.
"You missed out then." He said, frowning as he tried to figure out what had happened. Something had to. The mood hadn't changed until he'd asked whether or not he'd made the shot. If Richie was being honest, and he probably was, then yes. He'd made it. He'd save Richie from the deadlights. If the fencepost had worked then it should've been dead, right? It kills monsters if you believe it does. He believed. He'd believed it had the power to save Richie. So... what had gone wrong? The other should've been happy to see him. Glad it was all over with and they could all go back to their lives, right? He shouldn't be near tears in a bar or making Eddie question his very existence or... Oh.
Oh...
Eddie's eyes went just a little wide as his mind started to put together a picture he didn't really want to see. "Rich..." He started before stopping himself. Did he really want the confirmation? Did he really want Richie to have to tell him about how he dies. Reaching across the table he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and filled his glass before downing most of it, only to fill it once again. "I... thought you'd be happier that you didn't have to kiss me." He finished lamely.